


In the life of Softpaw

by TheBuggu



Category: Transformers Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBuggu/pseuds/TheBuggu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you thought Softpaw was odd for taking a liking to Starscream, just wait until he interacts with the Autobots. (A gift for Dragonmaster's fic Double-Edged Sword. Takes place after Chapter 16.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the life of Softpaw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragonmaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonmaster/gifts).



> So, I reallllllly love Double-Edged Sword and everyone should go read that here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/723994/chapters/1343148
> 
> If you haven't read it yet, this won't make any sense to you. :3 
> 
> (And sdfsdsdffd I really hope you like this, Dragonmaster ;w;)
> 
> This was un-beta'd so don't be afraid to point out mistakes to me. :3

Softpaw nearly dwarfed Bumblebee as the Insecticon laid against the yellow mech's lap. He purred, causing his large frame to rattle, as Bumblebee reclined back against the wall and scratched his armor with one servo. In the other arm, the young scout held Bob and made a relaxed sound. Lately, after spending some time with the newly gained Autobot allies, Softpaw found that the majority of them were very stressed out – even if they thought they hid it well.

The thing about Insecticons is that they could easily understand and interpret body language. Despite outward appearances, their kind developed to observe nuances in gestures. It was a large part of how they communicated with one another without the need for words.

Bumblebee was one of the few Autobots who didn't avoid the Insecticons or other Decepticons at first and welcomed them surprisingly with open arms.

So, here they were, after Bumblebee had been approached by the affectionate Softpaw. It took literally minutes for the scout to warm up to him.

Shortly after a few more minutes passed, Bumblebee paused in his scratching and lightly tapped the Insecticon's side.

He calmly explained to Softpaw that he had to meet up with his human friend and gave a few sad beeps when the Insecticon moved off, placing Bob on the ground by his feet. Softpaw sat down and made a curious whirr of low pitched chirps and growls and leaned forward to lightly headbutt Bumblebee's midsecticon. That was met with a sound akin to a very scratchy laugh and yellow fingers reached to pat the back plates of the lowered helm. Softpaw shivered happily, moving his face closer to Bumblebee's and gave a slow lick to it.

Bumblebee shuddered out of surprise but did not express any disgust with the notion. He simply hugged Softpaw by his neck and backed away. He waved to Softpaw and Bob before turning away and breaking out into a trot to meet up with the human.

Softpaw made a sad whine at the loss of the nice Autobot who gave great pets and glanced down to Bob. The youngling mimicked him at first but immediately produced a a playful growl and backed up. He bounded back towards Softpaw, building his speed as he charged at the larger Insecticon's frame. Natural Insecticon play as they grew older. How else would they learn how to fight enemies or settle arguments in the Hive.

However, Softpaw simply yanked the youngling up into his arms and made purrs again, slowly covering him in lick after lick. Bob squeaked and made loud giggles at the action, and he soon began to squirm in Softpaw's arms. Bob whined after a moment and licked the underside of Softpaw's chin before he managed to squirm out of the Insecticon's arms and climbed over his shoulder.

He scampered down to the ground and weaved between Softpaw's feet, nipping at them both with a gentle demeanor. Bob produced a series of playful growls and bounced up and down as he stared up at Softpaw. When the Insecticon reached down for him again, Bob rolled away from his claws and sat on the ground and giggled.

The two stared at each other for a short time before Bob, having a short attention span like many hatchlings did when they grew to his age, seemed to forget about wanting to play. He made a few short, rushed growls and turned to run in the opposite direction. Softpaw made a loud whine and watched the youngling flee. He knew he was going to find Optimus, since the youngling saw him as a creator. At least Bob would be raised well enough, even if the servos raising him weren't Insecticon ones.

Softpaw turned and began to trudge the hall, making a loud whine as he explored. And as he rounded the closest corner, a brief flash of blue stopped him in his tracks.

He gazed down and made a curious chirp as his stare met with two very angry, blue optics.

“Watch it, Bug,” the blue Autobot femme growled up to Softpaw, and just as quickly, she slipped around him. He tilted his head and turned to watch her storm off. He made a confused sound as suddenly one of his Hivemates, Chop Shop, and one of the Vehicons followed after her. Maybe that Autobot was a little too angry to be bothered right now. Even he could see it was a lost battle to even try at the moment.

He simply whined and resumed on his way.

“Next!”

Softpaw paused and glanced around after hearing a voice call out from the closest doorway in the hall. He chattered loudly and moved closer to examine, flicking the mandibles on his face up and down in excitement. He slowly shifted to stand infront of the doorway and peered inside, noticing how...clean it smelled.

Inside he spotted the Autobot medic –back turned to him– conversing with Knock Out. The red and white medic groaned and rubbed his face with one hand, waving the other arm at the mech.

“Well,” Knock Out spoke after he noticed Softpaw entering, “Didn't expect this kind of patient.”

Softpaw watched as the other medic glanced over his shoulder and performed a double take. His mouth gaped open as he turned fully stare at the Insecticon.

“I...was not aware that any of the Insecticons were injured?” he asked with a frown and looked Softpaw up and down.

“If that were the case, Hardshell would be in here demanding our attention. Primus knows how protective he is of them,” Knock Out replied and folded his arms together.

Softpaw made a loud chirp and shook his head, immediately reaching for the Autobot medic and pulling him into a hug. He could easily tell how overworked and tired he was. He sat down quickly and purred.

“By the Allspark, it's lost its mind!” he cried out and tried to push the Insecticon's arms away.

As Softpaw nuzzled his head against the medic's armor and continued to purr, Knock Out strolled closer and tapped his chin. “Now, you remind of a certain Insecticon who shadowed Starscream like one of those organic creatures humans always seem to have,” the bright red mech murmured in amusement.

Ratchet scowled at Knock Out and attempted to thrash against the Insecticon's grip. “Why do I find it hard to believe you're not lying?” he asked in a very dry tone.

“Oh, but it's very true, _ein Fruend._ Orion Pax introduced us when Starscream returned to the Nemesis. His name's Soft _claw_ or something,” Knock Out explained as he folded his arms together, barely suppressing his laughter at the sight.

“I fail to see what is so funny-- Augh! Yip-yip-yip! Back off or I will personally remove that glossa!” Ratchet warned the Insecticon as soon as he felt the large behemoth...licking the side of his helm.

Softpaw innocently whined and only seemed to tighten his hold on the medic as a result.

Knock Out smirked and moved closer to the sitting Insecticon, reaching out to lightly pat Softpaw's head. “Now, now, _Doctor of Doom._ I think it's just obvious how overworked you are.”

“I'm not discussing this again, Knock Out. I'm fine! I don't need to take a break or rest or stop being a doctor until I see that all of the Decepticons--”

“Ex-Decepticons,” Knock Out chimed in and raised an optic ridge as a result.

“-- are all given a clean bill of health.”

“Yes. Of course, my mistake. The short time that you are gone, I will overlook one of the Vehicons having the most fatal, incurable diseases to ever affect Cybertronian kind,” Knock Out replied in a very sarcastic voice and rolled his optics.

“I'll have you know that Optimus caught the Cybonic plague not too long ago. And this happened here on Earth,” Ratchet replied in a very matter of fact tone and continued to scowl with an annoyed expression.

Knock Out simply shook his head in a response and turned his attention to Softpaw again. He leaned forward and scratched the Insecticon by his chin to get his attention. “Now, who wants to be a good, helpful Insecticon?” he asked very sweetly.

Intrigued by Knock Out's tone, Softpaw made a loud chirrup and his visor flashed brightly.

“Poor, poor Ratchet here is _very_ tired and I need you to take him out of here for a little while. And make sure he doesn't come back,” Knock Out explained and slapped one servo over Ratchet's mouth when the medic began to question the red mech.

Softpaw tilted his head, raising his mandibles in a very curious manner as Knock Out's request began to sink in. He made a loud purr and nodded eagerly. He rubbed his head against Ratchet once more before standing up, tugging the distraught medic up with him.

As he happily carried Ratchet out the door, Softpaw glanced back to Knock Out and chattered before disappearing.

While Softpaw decided to take the medic somewhere closer to his Autobot friends, he purred even as a slew of insults and threats of “removing his mandibles” or making him the “first Insecticon dissection specimen” were thrown in every which way. Ratchet even resorted to kicking at Softpaw's thighs as he was carried, but Softpaw's plating was sturdy enough to withstand it. His only reaction was to lick the back of Ratchet's helm and purred as Ratchet made a loud grunt of annoyance.

 

~ ~ ~

 

A loud commotion attracted Softpaw's attention as he entered the large command center of the Autobot base. He immediately observed a huge group of gathered Insecticons and Vehicons sitting against the wall and among them was Smokescreen holding Bob. It seemed the youngling got distracted again. Nearly all were focused on Bulkhead and Wheeljack, as well as Breakdown and Hardshell gathered in a circular formation.

Breakdown and Wheeljack faced one another, while Bulkhead and Hardshell circled around the two. In Breakdown's hands, he held a large ball formed by crude, compacted metals. He leaned to one side, watching Wheeljack intently. The other three mechs were watching the ball Breakdown held close. Eventually Breakdown flung the large ball in Bulkhead's direction, only for Wheeljack to quickly jump up and snatch the ball mid air.

“Awww, Jackie!” Bulkhead immediately complained as he frowned down at the shorter mech, who wore a very pleased smirk. “The point of lobbing is to make sure everyone gets a catch, remember?”

“Like I said, Bulk. You gotta catch it before me if you want it that bad,” he murmured back and chuckled.

Softpaw began to approach, even as Ratchet continued to ordering to be released. Wheeljack, noticing the two, quickly dropped the lobbing ball he held and held up a servo.

“Alright, boys! Take five,” Wheeljack shouted and waved to the crowd before lightly jogging over to Softpaw and Ratchet. “Well, well, Sunshine. How nice to see you in the land of the functioning again.”

“Can it, Wheeljack! And help get this oaf off of me!” Ratchet replied with an irritated tone, squirming again for good measure.

“Sorry, Doc. But other Doctor's orders are that you get rest from your work and you are officially kicked out of the medbay for a while,” Wheeljack replied and placed his servos against his hips, smirking after Softpaw hugged Ratchet in a large embrace before letting up his grip a bit.

“Has everyone fried their processors around here?!” Ratchet demanded and continued to squirm against the Insecticon's large forearms.

“Ratchet! Please, just calm down,” Bulkhead pleaded after he had approached as well. “Look. Knock Out just comm.ed us and told us what was going on. We...kind of agree that you could use a break, Ratch.”

“A-agree?” Ratchet stuttered for a moment and frowned. “Bulkhead, I've been the medic for our team since we arrived on Earth! I do not need to stop like I'm some sort of....outdated machine!”

Bulkhead frowned and glanced to Wheeljack, both unsure of how to respond to that. However, Softpaw made a loud purr and carried Ratchet off before they had time to reply with an answer.

“I'll give you one more chance to release me, you over grown pest,” Ratchet gritted and tried to push the Insecticon's arms away once again.

However, the longer he was carried, the less effort he put into trying to escape. Eventually he resorted to simply huffing in annoyance and glaring ahead. He ignored some of the sympathetic glances from some of the Vehicons as Softpaw made his way through the crowd.

Ratchet blinked as he was suddenly placed on the ground, now standing beside Smokescreen. He frowned and glanced up to Softpaw, who was hovering behind him, purring happily. He grumbled and slowly sat on the ground, crossing his arms in an extremely irritated motion.

“This is ridiculous!” Ratchet found himself complaining, though to no one in particular.

“Cheer up, Docbot,” Smokescreen pipped up as he gave Bob a hug and allowed the young Insecticon to climb to his shoulder.

Ratchet watched silently as Bob latched onto the side of Smokescreen's helm and leaned closer to lightly wave his tiny claw towards the medic.

“Yip-yip-yip! I don't need to calm down, or relax, or cheer up. All I need to do is get back to work without being kicked out of my own slagging medbay!” Ratchet glared at Smokescreen and flinched when Softpaw dropped to the ground and quickly moved to lay across the medic's lap.

“Awww, don't be such a grump, Ratchet. The big guy's not so bad,” Smokescreen chuckled and reached to scratch the said Insecticon's head. Softpaw responded with a low series of purrs and relaxed instantly. “I think he's just trying to get you to like him more.”

Softpaw made a loud chortle and laid his his head against his forearms, still purring.

“Well, when you all get an outburst of cosmic rust because I wasn't there to diagnose it, I will say I told you so as I turn everyone away from getting treatment,” Ratchet replied in deadpan as he placed his arms over the back of Softpaw's armor, resigned.

Smokescreen made a small smile and gazed back up to the lobbing game going on. The four mechs had resumed their match after Ratchet and Softpaw found spots to sit down. Currently Hardshell possessed the lobbing ball and watched Wheeljack specifically, he feigned a left toss and chucked the metal ball towards Bulkhead instead.

Ratchet observed silently, unable to get too invested to it.

“Why such a large crowd?” Ratchet asked suddenly and glanced to Smokescreen.

The younger mech, acting the opposite of Ratchet, threw one arm up every time the ball was caught and nodded enthusiastically. “Bulkhead had the idea. Figured that all the Vehicons and Insecticons could learn something to do with all the extra energy. A lot of these guys were getting restless without anything to do. So, they're watching and learning!”

It made sense. You couldn't expect soldiers to suddenly drop their old ways and remember how to live as citizens. Perhaps, even some of the Vehicons or Insecticons only knew fighting as a way of life.

Ratchet glanced down to the Insecticon on his lap and frowned. He sighed and leaned more against the Insecticon's armor, holding back the urge to bang his head against Softpaw's armor out of frustration.

Stubbornly, Ratchet closed his optics after realizing that it felt...comfortable. Softpaw was very warm and his constant purring helped him feel at ease Perhaps he had been overworked...

“Nice catch, eh Ratchet?” Smokescreen asked after witnessing Breakdown stealing the throw from Bulkhead to Wheeljack. He glanced over to the medic and tilted his head.

Ratchet was slouched forward, face buried against Softpaw's armor. His servos twitched against the Insecticon's back, but otherwise he was unresponsive.

“Wow. That's the fastest I've seen someone fall into temporary stasis,” Smokescreen sighed and reached to pat Softpaw's head again.

Softpaw made a pleased purr and slowly stretched his limbs out against the ground, intent on resting as well.

How they both managed to recharge with such a loud crowd, that cheered whenever one of the other mechs caught the lobbing ball as it was tossed around, Smokescreen wasn't sure. After all, how fair would it be if someone who worked as hard as Ratchet didn't get to experience the peace they had now?  

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really love Insecticons. You have no idea.
> 
> (Also sorry I've not updated much recently. I've been busy because I started a new job working third shift and I'm trying to adjust to my new sleeping schedule ;_; )


End file.
